Susan Appleyard's Blog, page 14

A nice review of Edward IV, England’s Forgotten Warrior King.

anthonycorbet

At amazon.com/books a reader named Dr Watson wrote a nice review of my book about Edward IV: it was titled “A doctor’s diagnosis of Edward IV’s life and legacy.”

Dr Watson wrote: “at long last we have a clear, concise and correct evaluation of an often neglected king of England. Not a court historian, this doctor (Corbet) gets it right in all respects.”

Dr Watson continued: this book “properly lays out the story of Edward IV as it should be told, warts and all.”

Dr Watson liked the analysis of the bones of Edward’s male heir sons, which were discovered in the Tower of London in 1674. He also approved of the analysis of the alleged marriage contract and the prevailing canon law.

In praise of Edward IV, I quote Dr Watson again: “in every aspect of Edward IV’s life, from his royal court, to patron of the arts, library…

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Cover Reveal is Here! Woo hooooooo

Here is the cover for Xina’s latest novelette. With her zany sense of humour, the book is bound to be a treat.

Today is the day for the cover reveal of my novelette! I’m flailing around like Kermit the Frog. What do you think? Does it look like the best thing in all of creation, everywhere, at all times? (Errr, okay, maybe I got a little carried away there). My cover designer is Yoly from Cormar Covers, who is not only talented, but also reasonably priced.

Please share it on your blog, Facebook, Twitter Instagram, what have you. Links are below! The story’s release is one week from today, July 5th.

 

Whiter Pastures
Xina Marie Uhl

Publication date: July 5th 2017

Genres: Adult, Historical, Romance

A romantic novelette in the Icebound series, an ongoing collection of polar delights.

Behold dogsleds and penguins. Howling winds and cold, pitiless wastes. This is Antarctica, where the intrepid inhabitants of the frozen ends of the earth battle the terrain, and each other, to find…

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Windows to go.

A hmmm moment. Recently I read a reference to windows that intrigued me, so I did a little digging. Just a little as it’s a huge subject. During the 1st. century A.D. Phoenicians developed a technique of blowing glass that created a variety of shapes. Once Rome got hold of the process and started using it in architecture, it soon spread throughout the Roman world.

[image error] Phoenician glassblower

Window glass, initially called crown glass, wasn’t developed until the 7th or 8th centuries. The process began with a ball of semi-molten glass on a blowpipe that was wide at the end – like a crown. It was then transferred to an iron rod and flattened into a disc shape by reheating and spinning. The centre formed a ‘bull’s eye’ which is one of the features of antique glass today. Because this method limited the size of the glass, pieces were joined together with lead strips called mullions.

At that time and for a long time afterwards window openings were covered by sheets of thin horn or linen soaked in oil and nailed to a frame. Wooden shutters were also used. These methods, I’m guessing, kept out light, but not the cold, leaving houses dark and musty.

Here’s the part that piqued my interest. In the fourteenth and fifteenth-century glass windows started to replace the oiled window coverings in the homes of the well-to-do. They were very expensive and therefore prized – a status symbol. When our thrifty ancestors moved from one house to another, as the well-to-do were wont to do, the windows were taken out and safely stored away until they were needed again.

The practice of constructing removable windows caused strife in some instances. A tenant might regard the windows as his and carry them off when he left. A certain parson who quarrelled with his diocesan superior made off with the windows and doors! Suits were filed in the courts. Initially, the law was uncertain and it wasn’t until the 16th century that judges decided glass windows were fixtures and not movables.

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With gratitude to Phoenicians and other contributors, it is time for me to enjoy a glass of wine. Cheers!

The infamous Hugh Despenser (who made the mistake of tangling with Queen Isabella.)

 

[image error] Edward II

Hugh was born somewhere between 1286 and 1290, the son and heir of a Worcestershire knight of the same name. In 1306 Hugh himself was knighted along with a bevy of other young men. Sometimes it happens that a stroke of luck smites unworthy persons, who might otherwise have lived and died in obscurity. Such a one was Hugh. Because Hugh Senior owed Kind Edward I a large sum of money, it was agreed between the two that the marriage of Hugh the Younger to Eleanor de Clare, the king’s niece would cancel the debt. As if that were not luck enough for one lifetime, Eleanor was the sister of Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, who was killed at the battle of Bannockburn. Eleanor and her two sisters became heiresses of the rich Gloucester estates.  Through his wife, Hugh inherited Glamorgan and other properties, making him a wealthy man indeed. But it was not enough for Hugh, who now found within himself a broad streak of avarice. Within a few years, by hook or by crook (well, mainly through nasty, underhanded dealings) he also possessed the estates of his two unfortunate sisters-in-law. They did not have the clout he had.

His clout came from the king, Edward II, with whom he developed a relationship that might have been homosexual, or might not. He was given the office of royal chamberlain, which brought him into close contact with the king, his-uncle-by-marriage.

The barons weren’t at all happy. They had cut off the head of the previous favourite, Piers Gaveston, only to find that someone far worse had stepped into his shoes. Despenser’s greed and ruthlessness in depriving widows and heirs of their rights earned him many enemies, from Queen Isabella down to small landholders. It was even said that he tortured a certain lady until all her limbs were broken in order to force her to sell her land for a pittance. But in the king’s eyes he could do no wrong, and indeed, while enriching himself and his father, he didn’t fail to enrich his king also.

Hugh took a leading role in the king’s troubles with rebellious barons. When the barons prevailed, they managed to get him exiled, but only briefly. He was back three months later and out for vengeance. The leader of the barons, the Earl of Lancaster was defeated and executed. Other barons were executed, or thrown in prison, or had huge fines levied against them. The Despensers’ cruelty knew no bounds. It was a bloodbath, and Edward II got his share of the blame.

There was no one strong enough to lead the opposition, but the king went too far when he allowed Despenser’s tyranny to extend to the queen. Isabella had her lands and her children taken away; her allowance was severely cut, and her French servants were ordered back to France or faced arrest. The pretext for all this pruning was that Isabella was a Frenchwoman and, since war was brewing with France, she was not to be trusted. However, England could not afford to become embroiled in a war, so the queen neatly turned the tables on her oppressors when it became necessary to send someone to France in order to negotiate a treaty of peace. Who better than Isabella, the sister of the Franch king, Charles VI.

While in France Isabella met with Roger Mortimer, a rebel baron who had avoided execution due to her intervention and had then escaped from the Tower of London. They soon became lovers.

[image error] Isabella’s invasion

Together with Isabella’s supporters and other exiles they planned to invade England and bring the Despensers down. Success was assured because by that time their enemies were hated and feared by high and low alike. When the invasion took place multitudes flocked to Isabella’s banners. The Despensers, along with the king, were harried from pillar to post until they were eventually captured.

Hugh the elder was fortunate to be hanged. For Hugh the Younger, Isabella reserved a gruesome revenge. I will spare you the details, but here is a picture.

[image error] The execution of Hugh Despenser

Hugh had nine children and is an ancestor of Lady Diana Spencer.

 

My Review #History In a Gilded Cage by Susan Appleyard for #RBRT #TuesdayBookBlog

A great review from Judith Barrow.

Judith Barrow

I received this book from the author as a member of Rosie Amber’s Review Team., ‘#RBRT

 I gave In a Gilded Cage  4* out of 5*

Book Description:

In a Gilded Cage is a B.R.A.G. Medallion winner! Sisi enjoyed a carefree lifestyle in the hills of Bavaria until she was chosen by Franz Josef to be his wife. At the age of sixteen she became Elisabeth Empress of Austria and moved into the imperial palaces of Vienna, where a hostile court disdained her for her low birth, and strict protocol ruled her every act. She had no other purpose than to adorn the emperor’s arm on ceremonial occasions and to make babies who were taken from her at birth to be raised by her domineering mother-in-law. Of too sensitive a spirit, and dazzlingly beautiful, she was often ill and anorexic and had to flee the court to distant places in order…

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The Notorious Piers Gaveston

 

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Piers Gaveston was born in Gascony c1284. Having taken a liking to the young man, Edward I placed him in the household of his son and heir, Edward of Carnarvon, as an example of the kind of man the king wanted his son to become: manly, athletic, likeable, and self-assured. They soon became fast friends. With others of their ilk, they were the ‘younger set’ at court, enjoying such pastimes as games, dancing, tournaments, and traipsing through the countryside in a long, colourful procession accompanied by minstrels. They regarded their fathers’ generation as dull and too serious. It was the son of a minor Gascon nobleman, not the prince, who was the leader of the group, the one they all wanted to be like.

[image error]

This is a likeness of Gaveston. It’s unlikely to be a true likeness but it is how I always imagined him: dark hair, dark, soulful eyes, a generous mouth, and that little feature I just love, a dimpled chin. Kinda handsome. They must have made a lovely couple, one so fair, the other so dark.

In 1305, Edward had a falling out with his father and was banished from court and his allowance was cut off. The king reduced the size of his household, and Gaveston was one of those who was excised. This was hard for Edward to bear.

The two were united when Edward was knighted along with Gaveston and others the following spring. That same year Edward I launched a campaign against Scotland. (He was rather fond of making war.) And he ordered his son and Gaveston to accompany him. It was perhaps at this time that they became lovers. Two randy youngsters sharing a tent, denied the society of women, exploring… experimenting… curious. In any event, it is likely they did become lovers at some point, although some deny it.

When the king went into winter quarters, Gaveston and twenty-one other knights left the army to attend a tournament in France in spite of orders to the contrary. The king was enraged, and when he was mad wise men ducked for cover. He ordered the confiscation of the lands of all the knights involved. Eventually, he relented and pardoned the knights – all except one: Gaveston. In fact, Gaveston was punished by being sent into exile – not for the last time. In the decree of exile, no term was given, nor any cause. Of what was Gaveston guilty? Could it be that the king suspected the Gascon’s influence on his son was not what he had hoped for? Did the king separate them in the hope that his son would then change his ways? Edward of Carnarvon had an illegitimate son and was due to marry Isabella of France the following year, so it is certainly possible that his father cherished such a hope.

What do the chroniclers say of this matter? That the king’s love for Gaveston was ‘beyond measure and reason’, ‘immoderate’, ‘inordinate’ and ‘excessive’. Vita Edwardi Secundi: ‘I do not remember to have heard that one man so loved another… our king was… incapable of moderate favour’. Robert of Reading was starkly candid when he wrote that Edward indulged in ‘illicit and sinful unions’, and rejected the sweet embraces of his wife.

As it happened, Gaveston’s exile didn’t last very long because in the summer of 1307 King Edward I died. The new king lost no time in recalling his favourite and heaping him with honours. He was elevated to the Earldom of Cornwall and given Elizabeth de Clare in marriage. She was Edward’s niece and the sister of Gilbert de  Clare, heir to the earldom of Gloucester. On top of all that, when Edward left for France to claim his bride, he named Gaveston as regent. The barons were outraged.

Isabella was the daughter of Philip IV (the Fair) of France. Although she was only twelve years old at the time of her marriage, she was probably enlightened in tactless and possibly vulgar terms about the relationship between her husband-to-be and the Gascon by her three older brothers. When she stepped ashore in England she was given a graphic demonstration of her husband’s love for Gaveston when Edward rushed down the gangplank and showered him with kisses, a show of affection Isabella most likely had not received. At the coronation a month later, Edward allowed Gaveston the most prominent role and at the feast later spent most of the time with his lover and all but ignored his wife. Isabella’s uncles were so offended by his behaviour they walked out.

In politics or war, Edward II was not the man his father was. Arrogant and provocative, Gaveston had offended a number of powerful barons and appeasement was the last thing on Edward’s mind. The barons managed to force Edward to send Gaveston into exile but again it was of short duration and Gaveston, arrogant as ever, resumed his dominant role at court and in the king’s affections.

Opposition mounted. In 1411 Edward had to acknowledge the Lords Ordainer, a group of 21 powerful nobles and bishops who drew up a set of rules to manage the royal household and the country. They also demanded that Gaveston be banished and never allowed to return. Now Edward was quite willing to hand his household and kingdom over to their rule if he could only keep his dear friend. The Ordainers were adamant. Gaveston must go. Go he did in November and was back the following January, Edward declaring that his banishment had been unlawful.

Civil war threatened. Led by the Earl of Lancaster, the barons gathered their forces. Edward and Gaveston almost fell into their clutches at Newcastle but managed to escape and fled to Scarborough. That was when Edward made the tragic mistake of leaving Gaveston there while he went to York. The barons besieged the castle and Gaveston surrendered to the Earl of Pembroke, who was generally regarded as an honourable man.

Unfortunately, when Pembroke left his prisoner in safe confinement and Gaveston was seized by the Earl of Warwick and carried off. From that moment his fate was sealed. He was thrown in a dungeon until Lancaster arrived. After a mock trial, he was taken to Blacklow Hill and stabbed before his head was cut off.

[image error]

In the 19th century, a monument was erected on the spot where Gaveston was killed. The inscription reads in part: ‘the minion of a hateful king’ beheaded ‘by barons as lawless as himself.’

Not the best epitaph.

Next: the ‘minion’ who made Gaveston seem like a choirboy.

Piers Gaveston is a character in my latest book which, although finished 3 months ago I still haven’t found a title for. For the moment I will call it ‘The Rebel Queen.’

The notorious Piers Gaveston

[image error]

This is a likeness of Piers Gaveston. It’s unlikely to be a true likeness but it is how I always imagined him: dark hair, dark, soulful eyes, and a generous mouth. Kinda handsome.

Gaveston was born in Gascony c1284. Having taken a liking to the young man, Edward I placed him in the household of his son and heir, Edward of Carnarvon, as an example of the kind of man the king wanted his son to become: manly, athletic, likeable, and self-assured. They soon became fast friends. With others of their ilk, they were the ‘younger set’ at court, enjoying such pastimes as games, dancing, tournaments, and traipsing through the countryside in a long, colourful procession accompanied by minstrels. They regarded their fathers’ generation as dull and too serious. It was the son of a minor Gascon nobleman, not the prince, who was the leader of the group, the one they all wanted to be like.

[image error]

And here is a likeness of Edward II. They must have made a lovely couple, one so fair, the other so dark.

In 1305, Edward had a falling out with his father and was banished from court and his allowance was cut off. The king reduced the size of his household, and Gaveston was one of those who was excised. This was hard for Edward to bear.

The two were united when Edward was knighted along with Gaveston and others the following spring. That same year Edward I launched a campaign against Scotland. (He was rather fond of making war.) And he ordered his son and Gaveston to accompany him. It was perhaps at this time that they became lovers. Two randy youngsters sharing a tent, denied the society of women, exploring… experimenting… curious. In any event, it is likely they did become lovers at some point, although some deny it.

When the king went into winter quarters, Gaveston and twenty-one other knights left the army to attend a tournament in France in spite of orders to the contrary. The king was enraged, and when he was mad wise men ducked for cover. He ordered the confiscation of the lands of all the knights involved. Eventually, he relented and pardoned the knights – all except one: Gaveston. In fact, Gaveston was punished by being sent into exile – not for the last time. In the decree of exile, no term was given, nor any cause. Of what was Gaveston guilty? Could it be that the king suspected the Gascon’s influence on his son was not what he had hoped for? Did the king separate them in the hope that his son would then change his ways? Edward of Carnarvon had an illegitimate son and was due to marry Isabella of France the following year, so it is certainly possible that his father cherished such a hope.

What do the chroniclers say of this matter? That the king’s love for Gaveston was ‘beyond measure and reason’, ‘immoderate’, ‘inordinate’ and ‘excessive’. Vita Edwardi Secundi: ‘I do not remember to have heard that one man so loved another… our king was… incapable of moderate favour’. Robert of Reading was starkly candid when he wrote that Edward indulged in ‘illicit and sinful unions’, and rejected the sweet embraces of his wife.

As it happened, Gaveston’s exile didn’t last very long because in the summer of 1307 King Edward I died. The new king lost no time in recalling his favourite and heaping him with honours. He was elevated to the Earldom of Cornwall and given Elizabeth de Clare in marriage. She was Edward’s niece and the sister of Gilbert de  Clare, heir to the earldom of Gloucester. On top of all that, when Edward left for France to claim his bride, he named Gaveston as regent. The barons were outraged.

Isabella was the daughter of Philip IV (the Fair) of France. Although she was only twelve years old at the time of her marriage, she was probably enlightened in tactless and possibly vulgar terms about the relationship between her husband-to-be and the Gascon by her three older brothers. When she stepped ashore in England she was given a graphic demonstration of her husband’s love for Gaveston when Edward rushed down the gangplank and showered him with kisses, a show of affection Isabella most likely had not received. At the coronation a month later, Edward allowed Gaveston the most prominent role and at the feast later spent most of the time with his lover and all but ignored his wife. Isabella’s uncles were so offended by his behaviour they walked out.

In politics or war, Edward II was not the man his father was. Arrogant and provocative, Gaveston had offended a number of powerful barons and appeasement was the last thing on Edward’s mind. The barons managed to force Edward to send Gaveston into exile but again it was of short duration and Gaveston, arrogant as ever, resumed his dominant role at court and in the king’s affections.

Opposition mounted. In 1411 Edward had to acknowledge the Lords Ordainer, a group of 21 powerful nobles and bishops who drew up a set of rules to manage the royal household and the country. They also demanded that Gaveston be banished and never allowed to return. Now Edward was quite willing to hand his household and kingdom over to their rule if he could only keep his dear friend. The Ordainers were adamant. Gaveston must go. Go he did in November and was back the following January, Edward declaring that his banishment had been unlawful.

Civil war threatened. Led by the Earl of Lancaster, the barons gathered their forces. Edward and Gaveston almost fell into their clutches at Newcastle but managed to escape and fled to Scarborough. That was when Edward made the tragic mistake of leaving Gaveston there while he went to York. The barons besieged the castle and Gaveston surrendered to the Earl of Pembroke, who was generally regarded as an honourable man.

Unfortunately, when Pembroke left his prisoner in safe confinement and Gaveston was seized by the Earl of Warwick and carried off. From that moment his fate was sealed. He was thrown in a dungeon until Lancaster arrived. After a mock trial, he was taken to Blacklow Hill and stabbed before his head was cut off.

[image error]

In the 19th century, a monument was erected on the spot where Gaveston was killed. The inscription reads in part: ‘the minion of a hateful king’ beheaded ‘by barons as lawless as himself.’

Not the best epitaph.

Next: the ‘minion’ who made Gaveston seem like a choirboy.

Piers Gaveston is a character in my latest book which, although finished 3 months ago I still haven’t found a title for. For the moment I will call it ‘The Rebel Queen.’

The Infamous Jane Shore

History... the interesting bits!

The Penance of Jane Shore by William Blake

Jane Shore is one of the most renowned of royal mistresses, rivalling only Katherine Swynford in her fame. However, Jane was not so fortunate as Katherine; there was no ‘happily ever after’ with her royal lover. As she has gone down in history, the poor woman didn’t even get to keep her own name.

So, who is Jane Shore? Well, she’s not called Jane, for starters. In fact, that name seems to have only been attributed to her more than 50 years after her death, and by a playwright, of all people.

The young woman in question was born Elizabeth Lambert; she was the daughter of John Lambert, a citizen and mercer of London who died in 1487. Her mother, Amy, was the daughter of Robert Marshall, a London grocer, and died in 1488, the year after her husband. Elizabeth was probably…

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Neuschwanstein Castle

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This is my painting of Neuschwanstein. My blog is not about art, but I couldn’t resist because I’m pretty proud of it.

Kissed by celestial breezes, Neuschwanstein stands on a mountain in a high Alpine region, far from the hustle and bustle of the human crowd. Ludwig II of Bavaria built this fairy-tale castle. Perhaps that’s why he was sometimes called the fairy-tale king. He spent a great deal of his childhood at nearby Hohenschwangau Castle and loved to ride his horse in the mountains, so he knew the area well. When he was ready to build his fabulous creation he already had a site in mind: on a rugged hilltop where the ruins of a much older castle stood overlooking two lovely lakes, the Alpsee and Schwansee, as well as the spectacular Pollat Gorge. From Hohenschwangau, he was able to watch his castle rising on its towering peak.

Neuschwanstein was intended as a refuge for Ludwig from the increasingly onerous duties of kingship, as well as a memorial to Richard Wagner, who never set foot there. Ludwig himself spent only a little time in the castle. It wasn’t quite finished by the time he was deposed by his own government. One of the pretexts was his out-of-control spending on building castles. Shortly after his deposition, he committed suicide. Ironically, it took the government only a few months to open Neuschwanstein to the public. I have no doubt that Ludwig would be spinning in his grave if he knew of all those profane feet trudging through his personal Monsalvat.

Mine were two of the feet that trudged in awe-struck wonder through those hallowed spaces in August 2016, an experience which I hope never to forget.

Chill with a Book Award

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Today is a great day. My first novel Queen of Trial and Sorrow has been awarded a Chill with a Book Award. Thank you, Pauline!

See it here: http://www.chillwithabook.com/2017/04...